


Co-Dominance

by anonlytree



Category: Football RPF
Genre: Beardsmut, Happy next Birthday Anaile20GH!, M/M, for science, no really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-10-18
Packaged: 2018-02-21 15:39:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2473529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonlytree/pseuds/anonlytree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stevie doesn't get it, he really doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Co-Dominance

Stevie doesn't get it, he really doesn't.  
  
"I don't get it... I really don't," he says, neck twisted at a painful angle.  
  
It's worth it for the view because he's been staring very intently at a particular spot on Xabi's jaw for the past three minutes. Or however long it's taken Xabi to pant his post-orgasmic high through open lips that are wet and bitten to a shade of bruised candy.  
  
"There's your sideburns growin' on your face, all brown like your hair, business as usual and then suddenly..." Stevie's index finger reaches for that point that baffles him, the border between business as usual and thick, soft, slightly ruffled by a good hard fuck, rusty face pelt. 

"Genetic... Co-Dominance..." Xabi turns on his side and sluggishly drags a leg over Stevie, his pale skin still sticky and overheated.

The hardness rubbing against Xabi's thigh is a reminder that not every occupant of their hotel bed has just climaxed in a spectacularly undignified mess of grunting and begging and moaning Basque obscenities.  
  
"Yer wha?" Stevie croaks.  
  
"When a gene has more than one dominant... um... allele," Xabi recites into his ear with slow, measured encyclopedia cadence, followed by a sharp nip on Stevie's lobe. "Characteristics of both genes appear at the same time."  
  
 _Fuck you_ , Stevie wants to say, then realizes it's a bit late for that one.  
  
"You... read up on your beard."

It's not a question, how could it be after so many years of... this.

"If you are 17 and one morning you wake up with red fuzz on your face, wouldn't you?" Xabi hums against Stevie's neck, intent on pressing his face just a bit too roughly against his clean-shaven skin.  
  
Stevie has no time to concede a point because Xabi grips his wrist and eases his hand over his head. He tries to turn, but Xabi shuts his mouth the best way he knows how to, and combined with the languid rub against his cock, it's enough for Stevie to let this one go.  
  
His eyes fall shut and he does not move his arm when Xabi lets go of his wrist. He lets out a soft gasp as Xabi's prickly chin slides down his jaw, scrapping along his exposed neck before pausing to lick a wet spiral in the hollow between his collarbones, sucking the thin skin up into his mouth, then biting. Hard.  
  
The jolt of pain that shoots through his body rewards Stevie with a delicious follow up of friction to his cock trapped under Xabi, so the soothing kiss on the burning red spot is almost a bonus.  
  
Xabi works his beard down Stevie's chest and his hand up in Stevie's hair and the anticipation of what those overgrown ginger bristles are about to do to his nipples is almost enough to make Stevie lose it. Luckily, there's always the memory of naked Pepe Reina laughing like a maniac in the showers after training to fall back on. Granted, at the time Stevie had failed to see the humor in Pepe's hollering about Captain Nippletastic, using the shower spray to hide the heat in his face from a certain other Spanish co-worker standing naked just two feet away.  
  
Maybe that's not such a useful memory right now after all.  
  
"Do not move," Xabi murmurs into the groove running down Stevie's chest, hands sliding down Stevie's arms after a final tug at his hair, but there's no need really. They've done this in enough anonymous hotel beds, and the occasional parked vehicle or transoceanic jumbojet, for Stevie to learn a thing or two about delayed gratification, even though he'd give most other things right now to sink his fingers in the flesh of Xabi's buttocks. 

Stevie wraps his palms around the bars in the headboard seeing as he doesn't fully trust himself after all. He's almost expecting a congratulatory pat on the head, but gets Xabi's teeth painfully twisting around one of his nipples instead and oh... that'll do, that's quite alright, thank you. He tilts his chin down to see Xabi's cheek rasping a stinging trail towards his stomach as he moves down the bed and... Christ, Stevie's used to beardburn by now, it comes with the package, but it's never been this... this... it's just... that's _a lot_ of beard scraping over Stevie's navel right now. A lot.  
  
Xabi lifts his eyes for a quick, smug scan of Stevie's increasingly sweaty face, but it's not telling him anything the tremor in Stevie's stomach under his chin doesn't convey with enough eloquence already. He buries his nose in the vulnerable skin at the juncture where Stevie's leg meets his pelvis and Stevie has to clamp down on his lower lip with his teeth to stop a needy whine because fuck, fuck, fuck Xabi's beard... uh... mouth, his mouth is so close to where he needs it right now...

"Mmmmmm," Xabi concludes once he's done taking a guttural whiff there and he's not planning on saying much else by the looks of it, thank Fowler and Christ and all the saints and...  
  
Stevie tries to summon some Catechism memories, but it was a really fucking long time ago; plus he spent those classes trying to break the laws of physics by staring at the wall clock, praying for the salvation of footie recess and writing down team formations and tactics on his hymnal so.  
  
"Jesus _fuck_!" he grunts when, suddenly, all the wet heat of Xabi's tongue travels from his balls up up _up_ and oh shit, he loves doing this... Loved doing it when they didn't have to drive for hours to a halfway safehouse on some Portuguese beach by the Spanish border, back when Xabi's cheeks were sharper and there was no bloody Call of the Wild situation going on on his face; back when he'd have to brush unruly hair out of his eyes every time he came up for air.

The look he gives Stevie from under lowered lashes as he takes him in deeper and rougher is a devastating reassurance of just how much Xabi'd love to keep doing this forever, then and now. Fuck. _Fuck_. Xabi's grip on his hips is relaxed and suggestive, so Stevie can't help but arch into that pretty mouth, watching Xabi's lips stretch pink and wet around his cock and hearing nothing but the hum of the air conditioning in the room and his own panting, punctuated by occasional wet slurps.  
  
Eventually, Xabi pops him out of his mouth only to grip Stevie's dick even harder with his hand and give it a slow, scenic route tour around the prickly lower half of his face. And it would be sweet, really, getting caressed like that, only it's really, really not and Stevie feels like he's going to die or maybe he's on his way to the great Anfield in the sky already.

"Xabi..." he rasps and his throat is coated in sandpaper and desperation.  
  
"Hmm?" Xabi asks with demure curiosity.  
  
Fuck it. The build at the base of Stevie's spine burns through his nervous system, across his limbs and all the way to his toes until he knows that string of words he can't actually distinguish from his babbling is only one word and he's begging and couldn't care less. Anybody in his place would beg for it. Anybody.  
  
"I always knew you wanted to fuck the beard," Xabi says right before he drags Stevie's dick back into his mouth and sinks down on it, filling his throat.  
  
Stevie can't say anything to that, his hands just fall limply off the headboard and into Xabi's hair as pleasure stretches though him and he comes till he's deaf, blind, and dumber than ever before. 

He's still too dazed to proper open his eyes for a while, but Stevie feels Xabi's face scratching its way back up his body between quick licks at the tiny beads of sweat he finds on the trail. When his eyelids finally lift, he's looking at Xabi's intense stare until his eyes can focus on Xabi's mouth and then... Well.  
  
Xabi figures out fast why Stevie's mouth's gone slack all over again, shoots a quick glance down and pushes the pointy tip of his tongue over his own upper lip, licking the white drop he'd missed earlier off his overgrown whiskers. He starts to smirk too, it's an inevitability, but Stevie grabs him by the back of his neck and moans as he tastes himself on that hot mouth, feeling Xabi's body slink back under the covers to settle next to him.  
  
"You could have said something earlier, you know," Xabi says when they can no longer make do without oxygen. He's chewing on the overgrowth under his lower lip and looking extremely pleased with himself.

"Fuck you!" Stevie growls like he means it this time.  
  
He may not be 24 anymore, but it's nothing a two-hour nap can't fix.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Last season, I dealt with being emotionally mine-stripped by Liverpool's doomed title race by writing crack and walking around the office with bloodshoot eyes and a clear aura of disembodiment surrounding me. I don't know if Xabi wrote anything, but had I been able to grow A LOT of beard, I would have looked [like he did at the time. ](https://41.media.tumblr.com/6c65c313ab49fe26b16380ec4ad12aeb/tumblr_n3mcisE9jp1rcz6r6o2_500.jpg)
> 
> 2\. In case you've wondered, like myself, how does a beard like THAT happen... _"Genetic Co-Dominance – a single gene has more than one dominant allele. An individual who is heterozygous for two co-dominant alleles will express the phenotypes associated with both alleles."_
> 
> Nature is amazing! Alternatively, you could blame the Vikings. Either way, it's ruined many, many lives.
> 
> 4\. Written for this prompt on thesilverwitch's LJ ficathon: _Xabi Alonso/Steven Gerrard - smut involving Alonso’s lush beard, please._


End file.
